AllFreeNovel
Share Us
No. No, he had to leave before she took everything back. He spun around and headed for the door. “See ya.”
While he made his way to the lounge, his mind and heart raced. The tense ride to the resort was a thing of the past, and he’d gladly put it behind them if they continued to have moments like that.
A group of men in collared shirts stood in a tight circle in the golfer’s lobby. A few of them were repeat faces from the whale watch cruise.
Begrudgingly, he headed to get a drink at the bar. The game that awaited him did not excite him in the least, and he needed liquid courage, or at least something to do to pass the time.
He decided against anything strong. Emilie didn’t drink as a rule, and he’d never had a taste for alcohol.
He looked at the menu and flagged down the barkeep. “One Cardinal Punch Mocktail, please.” He needed something to fight the urge to flee back to his hotel room.
He took his time and nursed his drink, prolonging meeting Finn and his family. Gosh, it was going to be a long day. Too soon, he found the bottom of his glass. With a heavy sigh, he set it down and shoved his hands in his pockets. He avoided the circle of men and headed for a couch in the back.
Finn waved him over. “You guys have met Dean Wright, haven’t you?”
The circle widened, allowing Dean a spot in the growing group of men. A murmur of greetings were given. He nodded to a few familiar faces from town, including Finn’s father and another fisherman who shared the docks with him.
“Harry, good to see you.” He headed in the fisherman’s direction. He was a safe person. Talking fish would pass the time.
Dean knew by the wide, toothy grin the man had drunk too much. “Hey, Dean, my man. How’s your catch lately?”
Dean lowered his voice. “Not bad. Yours?”
Harry shook his head and continued speaking loudly. “About the same. Business is slow in the summer.”
Dean raised his eyebrows. In his experience, summer was the busiest season by far. “Sorry to hear that.”
Drinks were passed out as they continued to talk. Harry got drunker by the minute, slurring every word. “How did you gist the biggest boatsss in the boatyardsss? Your dad mush have big pocchhets.”
Dean winced and discreetly covered his nose. His stomach rolled. Maybe Harry felt the same way he did about golf. Dean would be drunker than a skunk if he drank the amount of booze it’d take to keep him happy during a round of golf.
After a while, Dean gave up trying to talk to the drunken man and watched Finn interact with his groomsmen. Staying friends with guys from high school was not easy when so many graduates left to find jobs in the city. He was impressed that so many of Finn’s high school friends had showed up to support him.
Although, if Finn took Ava off the market, it might be a service to the community. Finn caught him staring and pointed his way. Darn it!
“Dean here is marrying Emilie Carter.”
A few guys from high school whistled and clapped, as Dean ducked his head.
Harry turned to him, his drunken grin widening. “She’s perty. Last I heard, shhhee was single.”
Dean cocked his head to one side. He liked this guy even less than Finn. At least Finn had class, most of the time.
Finn watched Dean carefully, a thoughtful expression on his face. “It does seem like you two jumped into things fast.”
“We’ve known each other since elementary school. I’d say that’s enough time to love someone.” The “l” word tingled on his tongue and was music to his ears as it sounded in his ears.
A man stepped up to their group, holding a clipboard. “Are we ready to get started?”
Dean sighed. The last thing he wanted to do was share the intimate details of their relationship. Since Finn was sidetracked, Dean stepped out of the circle of men to avoid Harry as a golfing partner.
Finn waved him over when he retreated to the back. “Hey, hold up, Dean. We’re partners.” He should’ve known better. Drunken Harry was three times better a partner than the groom.
“Sure. Let’s get this over with.”
They were matched with equipment, and though Finn offered an extra pair of gloves to him, Dean politely refused.
Three holes into the game, he regretted his decision to go gloveless. After his turn, he put down the putter and examined his hands. His calloused hands were riddled with growing blisters from the constant swinging motion.
